


Cain and Praxis Fight in Rhyme This Time

by chollarcho



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, Poetry, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chollarcho/pseuds/chollarcho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain is an immature jerk, but Praxis is used to this shit by now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cain and Praxis Fight in Rhyme This Time

**Author's Note:**

> A third of this is Cain insulting Praxis, so I'd like to disclose that I think Praxis is very attractive (and Ethos is a cutie too). Also, in the tradition of Vergil, I have sacrificed grammar to poetry where necessary. :P

The ship awoke, artificial dawn bright,

And Cain and Praxis had another fight.

It started in the showers with a look,

Just a stray, subtle glance was all it took.

Praxis did not leer, yet hawk-eyed Cain saw.

As Abel blithely left, Cain ground his jaw.

This was just perfect, what he’d waited for,

And he shoved Praxis back into the door.

“I saw that!” he crowed, “I saw you staring

At Abel’s junk then.  Were you comparing

His tight, toned physique to Ethos’ paunch?”

Praxis tried to respond to the taunt,

But Cain spun his gleeful accusation

Without a pause in his confrontation:

“You lily-livered cad, you enlarged spleen,

Don’t think your sleazy peek has gone unseen.

Wait ’til Abel knows you spied on him here.

I’ll tell him and he’ll never let you near.

He’ll think you’re disgusting, you slack-jawed slug,

With your tangled eyebrows, your beat-up mug,

Your oily hair, your nose gummed up with snot,

Your waxy ears, all a pathetic lot!

Bet you wish Dame Fortune had granted you

My sculpted body and dashing grin too,

But that lady plays favorites, and she

Didn’t favor you much:  it’s plain to see

In your green-toothed mouth, slimy blue lips cracked.

Liver-breathed, barrel-bellied, spotty-backed,

Ingratiating swine with stinky pits,

Sunken eyes, sallow cheeks pocked like Mars grit!”

And so Cain spat out this vicious slander.

Praxis, unshaken, replied with candor,

“I find your insults quite Shakespearean,

But they are getting rather dreary, and

If you don’t shut your goddamn mouth I’ll kick

Your ass into next week, you fucking prick.”

Thus said Praxis, and he then turned his back,

A dare to Cain to make another crack.

Cain threw a bar of shampoo at his head,

But he missed and brained Deimos instead.

Cain didn’t see this, though, quick to retire,

Eager to tattle and see Abel’s ire.

Yet Abel, shockingly, was not impressed

When Cain told him as they sat in the mess.

“I’m not your property.  It’s not your place

To argue with Praxis, or bash his face,

For looking in the bath.  It’s a shower,

For fuck’s sake, Cain, so wipe off that glower.

Besides, Praxis is kind of cute, I think.”

And Abel gave Praxis, nearby, a wink.

Angrily howling, his ego quite bruised,

Cain chucked his oatmeal at the much-abused

Praxis, who, being of good reflex, ducked,

And Deimos got the face-full of muck.

Deimos, livid, oatmeal in his ears,

Said loudly, so that all present could hear:

“What, Cain?  You’re jealous of Praxis’ dick?

I’m not surprised.  You blow your wad too quick.”

Amid the ruckus, Praxis took his tray.

He’d eat elsewhere—it was one of those days.


End file.
